Page 48 of Released from the Sin Bin

“Are you hungry?” I ask, hoping he’ll take pity on me and go through a drive-thru or something.

“Do you like real Mexican food?” He rolls his head back against the seat and looks at me with that devilish smirk of his. “I know a place where we can get some real tacos.”

“Do they have taco-ritos too?” I joke, referring to our lunch a couple of months ago.

“Nah, you’re getting a taco.”

He drives off into town to a small Mexican restaurant right on the outskirts of Main Street. The lighting is dim, but the sun is brightly shining through the nearby window to lessen the romantic feel from the candle on the table.

It isn’t as fancy as it’s trying to be, with paper covering the colorful tablecloths that contradict the Papel Picado banners that hang from the ceiling, crisscrossing throughout the space.

“How’d you do on the final?” I ask, while looking over the menu.

“Not sure.” He puts down his menu and drinks some water. “It was easier than I thought it’d be, but I guess I won’t know until I get the grade.”

I nod, agreeing with him. “I Don’t think Coach Higgins was the one that made the final.” Our professor before Coach was a lot more easygoing, and the final felt more relaxed than the last couple of months of class.

Carter motions for a waiter to order some chips and salsa for the table.

“How long do you have to wear the cast for?”

“Doctor said six to eight weeks, but then another six to eight weeks of physical therapy, and that all depends on how it heals to determine if I’ll need surgery or not.” I set my menu down and play with a tortilla chip I took from the small basket. “He thinks there’s a chance it will heal without needing surgery, which is better in the long run.”

There’s a brief silence that settles between us with the sound of us munching on the crisp, salty chips. I don’t have to say it. Carter knows that if they have to put a metal plate in my ankle, there’s a chance I may not be able to skate at the level I was ever again. There’s always a chance I won’t be able to if the bone doesn’t heal right.

I can’t give up.

“Was Coach Professor Dickweed understanding about what happened?” He asks, making me sputter on my water from the crude nickname.

“No,” I mutter. “He was pissed and I’m not even sure I’ll still have a place on the team.”

We’ll see how it goes, is the response I got. Not meaning if my ankle heals quickly, but meaning if I am easily replaced by another girl playing as well as I can.

“Fucking cocksucker,” Carter mutters back. “If you’re able to play after you heal, he shouldn’t be able to cut you from the team.”

“He can.” I stuff a chip in my mouth and talk with my mouth full. I’ve never been good at waiting until after I swallow. “There’s plenty of talented players on the bench who are waiting for their shot. And it’s my fault. I screwed up.”

“You did,” he agrees with me with a shake of his head. “But you’re a fucking amazing player. Better than all those girls on the bench. You worked your ass off for that position.”

“If you were a duster, and a spot opened up because of an injury, would you give it back to the guy easily once he’s able to play again?” I look at Carter, daring him to prove me wrong.

“No,” he laughs. “I’d work my ass off to make sure I keep the spot.”

“Exactly.”

Our food comes quickly after we order and surprisingly we’re having a great time. Our conversation flows from school to hockey easily, and my somber thoughts about my ankle are momentarily forgotten. It has to be the best Mexican food I’ve ever had. Carter was right, the tacos were the way to go.

He grabs the check when I see Luca calling.

“Willa-bean, I need your help,” Luca says as soon as I answer.

“My help?” What could I possibly help him with? “What do you need my help for?”

“I’m picking something out, and I can’t decide. I need your expert female advice,” he says over the sound of Alex talking in the background.

“Is it something for Kandi?” I question him and try to take my money out to pay, but Carter waves me off.

“Thanks,” I mouth while Luca tells me he’s picking out a special gift and asks if I can meet him down the road at a jewelry shop.

---